


Angel Eyes and Basketball

by rgamer9



Series: Gamer AU [1]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentioned suicide, Self-Hatred, or drabble i suppose, self indulgent fic of benvolio comforting romeo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rgamer9/pseuds/rgamer9
Summary: and it's so uglyand i'm so brokenand i'm so uglyand it's so brokenRomeo lets himself vent to Benvolio.The characters I write are explicitly the characters from Toho's Romeo et Juliette (black cast).
Series: Gamer AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831138
Kudos: 6





	Angel Eyes and Basketball

**Author's Note:**

> in case you didn't read the tags well. trigger warning for reference self harm and suicidal thoughts. that is sort of the focus of the fic

Romeo didn’t say anything for a while. This wasn’t the first time Benvolio had pulled him aside from the chaos Mercutio inspired in their living room when he noticed Romeo wasn't doing so good. Now, like every other time this happened, he was seated on the foot of Benvolio’s bed with Benvolio to his left, and they sat in silence and darkness. Though Benvolio’s room wasn’t usually dark (he had a million little lights all around his room), he kept it dark for Romeo. It was easier to talk when no one could see him, even if Benvolio really could see him once his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. He just sat there and he stared at his hands, laying palms up on his lap. Benvolio’s warmth and presence beside him on it’s own was comforting enough; it was nice to have a closeness to someone that didn’t inspire immediate guilt in him. 

Eventually, Benvolio’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, encouraging him to come closer, and he could feel his lower lip wobble. “I’m sorry,” Romeo whimpered, his voice all twisted up, and he turned his face to press it into Benvolio’s chest. Only then did he let a long, shuddering sob go through him. 

He was, really, he was so sorry. Romeo was sorry that his good for nothing brain made everything so hard, and he was sorry that his mental state gave Benvolio more shit to deal with. He wished he could go back to when they were in high school, and he wasn’t the burden he was now, but he couldn’t. They were all graduated. There was no reversing time. This was just the way he was now.

Romeo wondered if he did something to deserve feeling like this. He didn’t believe in God, but maybe God hated him so much that he needed to feel like he was chained to the deepest layer of Hell for eternity. Maybe if he _did_ believe in God, everything wouldn’t be as miserable as it was. Or maybe this ache was his fate. He was made just to feel misery and there was nothing more of him besides that.

“I’m sorry,” he cried again, when he realized Benvolio had never said anything in reply to him. “I don’t… don’t want to drag you down.” 

Benvolio held him tighter, and Romeo listened as he sighed through his nose. “It’s okay. If I didn’t want to talk about it with you, I wouldn’t have asked you about it. Really.” 

He didn’t know what he’d do without Benvolio. His cousin was the one person he didn’t want to just fucking cut his veins out over telling him what it feels like to be so alone and be such a failure, and if Romeo drove him away with his constant complaining, he might actually kill himself. Without even really meaning to, he was balling his fists up in Benvolio’s shirt and clinging to him tighter, scared that he would just disappear right then. He was so fucking scared of being alone. 

Was telling him what was wrong more of a burden, or was making Benvolio concerned for nothing more of a burden?

Romeo pressed his face harder into his cousin’s chest, inhaling deep and exhaling out a loud and shaky sigh. The familiarity of his scent and of his embrace made it easier to let go of whatever guilt remained in him about being wired wrong. 

“I just.” It was hard getting started, but once he did, it was even harder to stop. “I want to die so bad. It hurts so much. It feels so alone and I can’t stop and no one can care or feel bad for me because _I_ did it -- it’s all my fault that I’m so fucking alone. I just want it to stop. Wanna stop wasting people’s time and I want to stop being a waste of space.” If Romeo wasn’t so weak-willed, he wouldn’t even think that he deserved to eat, but he was useless and weak and he couldn’t stick to anything or do anything right to start with.

Benvolio’s momentary silence already triggered Romeo into knowing what he was going to say, the exact same thing he always did; “I’m not going to let you.”

“Please. Please, just let me do it, I just want it to stop hurting so much. Please.” 

“Romeo, will you let me help you get an appointment with a therapist?”

“No. No. No.” 

Living forever with this weight was terrifying, but the idea of it _not_ hurting was even scarier. Who would he be without this hurt? Would there be anything left of him at that point? 

Would Benvolio even care about him still, when there was nothing wrong with him?

Romeo made a snuffling noise into Benvolio’s chest when his breath was caught in his throat, all too aware of the fact that wanting to be in pain and struggling just for people to care about him was part of the fucking reason that he was a despicable person. He didn’t know how to stop. He really was going to be like this forever, but he’d rather die than get better.

“Please don’t leave me.” 

He knew he deserved it, he deserved it so fucking hard. He didn’t deserve someone like Benvolio; his love and his patience and his understanding. But he was selfish. Romeo didn’t want to keep hurting, and he didn’t want to be left by himself to deal with his shitty fucking brain. 

In the back of his head, that begged the question: _Then what_ do _you want?_

Romeo shook his head, rubbing his teary face into Benvolio’s tacky white and plant printed button down while he was fighting to keep his breathing under control. He didn’t know what he wanted. He guessed he wanted someone to make the decision for him. 

“I’m never going to leave you. I love you. You’re my family, and I’m gonna be here no matter what. No matter how hard it is, I’ll always be here for you.” 

What if it was easy? If Romeo’s life wasn’t hard, if he wasn’t always in agony, would he still be worthy of being cared about? 

There was no answer or middle ground in his head. He just cried and cried until he had worn himself out, and when he was only sniffling and breathing like a little kid who had a meltdown, he pulled away from Benvolio, burying his face in his hands.

After crying and smoking were the only times he could feel any better; his brain was completely out of commission for an all too brief few minutes and he could just sit there, neither upset nor happy, and exist. There was no clawing at the inside of his skull and there was no tons of guilt pressing on his shoulders. He could sit and breathe. 

Romeo vaguely registered Benvolio rubbing his back. He shamelessly appreciated it. 

“I’m gonna head home,” he mumbled once he had been soothed to calmness, hands dropping to his lap again. The pressure on his thighs hurt the skin that lay beneath his pants, and in spite of that, he pressed a little harder on them. Agitating his cuts made him feel human. “I wanna smoke and pass out.”

Benvolio firmly shook his head. “No, you’re staying the night.” Romeo recognized the bitterness in himself that Benvolio definitely knew he was going to do something aside from smoking, and he got hit with that hurting, comforting, default guilt that someone was right here, caring about him, and he had the fucking audacity to push it away when that was the thing he was crying for only a few minutes ago. “You know I’m not gonna let you be alone right now.” 

“I wanna be alone.”

“No, you don’t.” Romeo’s silence prompted him to keep going. “You can sleep in my bed. If you really wanna smoke, Mercutio’s probably dying to get you high right now anyways, but I’m not gonna let you go home tonight.” 

Some part of Romeo felt safe, if not defeated, that Benvolio would make his decisions for him right now, aside from the fact that they weren’t the decisions he was leaning towards. Being taken care of was nice when it didn’t feel like he was ruining Benvolio’s life for letting him do it. There was no doubt in his head that Benvolio was also making him stay the night because he knew that Romeo would shut himself in his apartment again for the next month once he got home. Romeo couldn’t blame him. “...Okay.”


End file.
